


Acting our own parts (let's perform our own little scene)

by EponineTheStrange (gallifreyandglowclouds)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Daddy Kink, Light D/s, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-07
Updated: 2014-07-07
Packaged: 2018-02-07 19:48:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1911546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gallifreyandglowclouds/pseuds/EponineTheStrange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Haz,” Louis asks carefully, “is there somebody else here right now?”<br/>“Daddy,” Harry whispers, carefully and reverentially.<br/>Louis can’t believe his ears. “Say that again?”<br/>Harry seems to have realised that he’s said something he wasn’t supposed to, takes a step back inside, and covers his mouth. “Fuck, Lou, I’m really sorry, can I help you with your stuff -“<br/>“No,” Louis says, mock-calmly. He cannot be calm right now, because if Harry said what he thinks Harry has just said, then… well. Louis’ brain can’t figure out what’s going to come next. “I want to you to repeat what you just said to me.”<br/>Harry sighs, and says, “I just called you Daddy.” </p><p>(Harry is really in to Daddy kink. Turns out, Louis is too. It's all good.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Acting our own parts (let's perform our own little scene)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EmmaaLouisee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmaaLouisee/gifts).



> For the lovely EmmaaLouisee - my apologies for the brevity.

Harry presses his face against the cool glass of the tour bus window, and sighs. Okay, so he’s probably being melodramatic, but he kind of feels like his soul is getting squeezed and compressed, and then it’s probably going to dribble out his ear or something and then get merchandised by some management intern.

So he’s going insane as well. That would never actually happen. He should probably tweet something cryptic about it, but he feels so strung out and burnt out that reaching for his phone feels like a herculean task. 

Eleanor was with them for a while, which never fails to lift his spirits and then accordingly, throws off the whole group dynamic as well - he can’t help it, it’s just another part of this whole having to hide thing, and it won’t be easily undone or solved and he and Louis just have to talk and fuck it out like they always do - but his heart and his mind just isn’t feeling in to it, and sometimes he wonders whether it might be better to just accidentally out himself and then wait for Louis to catch up, just so he doesn’t have to hide anymore. It’s getting to the point where no amount of money or girls or booze is making this whole experience worthwhile, which is sad, because he does like to perform and sing the songs. 

It’s the other stuff that gets him down, and he’s nearly ready to tell the bus driver to drop him off on this godforsaken stretch of road somewhere between Madrid and Porto, so that he can just disappear into the Spanish wilderness. It’s a great plan. 

Louis comes and sits down beside him, and leans into his side. Harry instinctively puts an arm around his shoulder, even though he’s - not really mad, but at the moment, Louis is not really the person who he really wants to have close to him right now. At least he doesn’t smell faintly of Eleanor’s perfume like he did on the night of their incredibly romantic dinner that was excessively covered by all the paparazzi ever, and that night Harry actually made him sleep in Eleanor’s hotel room. Still, if Louis comes and burrows into his side then Harry will always cuddle him - after four years, it’s just muscle memory. Even if they’re mad at each other. 

“How are you?” Louis murmurs. 

“Alive,” Harry says. “That’s - that’s about it, right now.” 

“Sorry, Haz -“ 

“It’s - it’s not your fault, Boo,” he whispers. “It’s just everything’s a bit much, right now.” 

“I feel you, Haz.” 

_No, not really,_ Harry thinks. _You can try, but I don’t think you get it right now._

“Thanks.” 

Louis sits there, buried in Harry’s side, and doesn’t say anything else for the rest of their bus ride. Harry can see that his eyes are a little downcast, maybe a little angry that Harry wasn’t so happy to see him - but every time they’re forced to hide, every time either of them has to look happy on camera with some random girl, it gets a little harder to put the pieces back together and go back to normal.

* * *

In a not well air-conditioned hotel room in Lisbon, Louis sits nestled in the v of Harry’s legs, back against his chest, ostensibly watching _Law and Order_ but is really tracing the outline of the tattoos on Harry’s left arm. 

“Haz,” he says, “I spoke to my mum after we got here.” 

“Indeed,” Harry replies. “What news from home?” 

“Well, you know how the girls and her and David and the new twins are all going down to Cornwall for a little while we’re on break?” 

“Yeah,” Harry says, envisioning a Tomlinson family vacation. Maybe it’s just his mindset, but the images that immediately come to mind are not positive.

“She says we can come along,” Louis says. 

Okay, to be fair, that’s big. Jay has never been terribly fond of Harry and Louis in combination, but because Louis and Eleanor are soon coming to an end, Jay’s got to invite someone on family vacations. Unfortunately, a ten day vacation on with the Tomlinsons is not really what Harry had in mind for a happy break. 

“Can I think about it?” Harry says. 

Louis sighs, frustrated. “Are you fucking serious.” 

“Whoa, Lou, calm down,” Harry says. “I didn’t say no.” 

“Harry, I have known you since you were sixteen, and not once have you said that and not later said no.” 

Louis probably has him there. 

“I think I need some time off this break,” Harry says. “You know, just kinda chill.” 

“It’s a vacation, Harry -“ 

“I know! But it’s - I always feel on edge with your family, you know that. I need to not feel on edge for a couple weeks.” 

“It would help if you could get to know them a little more, maybe sort of initiate them into the idea of us being a couple,” Louis says. “It would make it easier.” 

“I guess,” Harry says. “The thing is, we’re still going to have to hide from everyone with a smartphone. You know what the PR guys are going to say, and I can’t do that anymore, Lou. We’ve just had three months of it, we’re coming up to three more, and I need a break.” 

Louis sighs, shoulders dropping. “I’ll call her tomorrow and tell her it’ll just be a family trip, then.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“I get why you feel that way, Haz.” He gently extricates himself from between Harry’s legs. “I’m just going to go brush my teeth, and then bedtime?” 

“Sounds good,” Harry says. Travel always tires Louis out, so an early night can’t hurt for either of them. Harry is also a little surprised that Louis doesn’t want to back to his perfectly good hotel room, but they almost never sleep separately if they have a choice, even if they’ve had a massive row. 

Louis switches off the light when he comes out of the bathroom, then fumbles his way over to the bed. He spoons up against Harry’s back - probably not the most logical arrangement, given that Ha,brry’s technically the only one who can truly be the big spoon in this couple, but it’s how they’ve always done it so Harry doesn’t fight it. 

“Love you, Haz,” Louis whispers sadly. “No matter what.” 

“Me too Boo,” Harry says. No matter what happens, that will always be the case. 

* * *

The five of them scatter when they get back to the UK for their short break before the US tour - and it’s nothing personal, really, but everyone does need their space, just for a little while. At the end of July they’ll all be back to normal, shooting the shit and playing awful pranks on one another, but tours are tough because it’s difficult to be so close together at literally all times, but some space is always good for friendship, Harry has discovered. 

Louis and Harry go back to their apartment, but Louis leaves early the next morning to meet his famly. Even though the hour is ungodly - it’s like, five-thirty, because Louis figures that’s his best chance to beat the paps - Harry wakes up, makes him some tea in a travel mug, and sends him on his way. Then he does some yoga, calls his mother, and goes back to bed. 

That’s - that’s when everything starts, because he has this dream that has him waking with his hands all twisted in the sheets. It’s Louis, and he’s got Harry’s wrists tied to the bedpost with neckties, and he’s sucking him off, very, very slowly. Harry wants to card his fingers through Louis’ hair, run his hands up and down his back, but Louis won’t untie his wrists, and all Harry can do is pull harder on his restraints and whine. Every time Louis gets him close, he stops, crawls up Harry’s body, and kisses him until his breathing evens out. 

Harry hasn’t not had a sex dream for nearly a year, and it’s - it’s a heady experience. It’s also something that he might want to do in real life, which - well, he and Louis aren’t much into anything more kinky than the occasional vibrator, so that’s very, very new. 

* * *

 The revelation about how much he might want to get tied up by Louis sends Harry into what he might be a bit of a downward spiral. He watches a lot of porn. He might buy some anal beads off Amazon. He starts to identify Louis as Daddy in his mind, which goes from a little joke when he first saw it in a porn video, but over the past couple of days has grown into a full-blown obsession. 

He also kind of retreats from the world - his phone runs out of battery and he doesn’t bother recharging it, and he gets more of his groceries delivered. 

It doesn’t occur to him that this might be somewhat worrying to his friends and family until he gets a Skype call from Louis in Dorset one night. He’s also - well, he’s also got four anal beads up his ass, and he kind of hadn’t realised that the muscle contractions would have them bumping up against his prostate continually. He debates for a few seconds as to actually answer the call, because he knows that he looks fucked out and sweaty and altogether not suitable for a serious conversation, but then he decides to just lie to Louis and say that the camera on his laptop. 

“Hey Boo,” he says, trying to regulate his breathing and wrapping his hand around his cock, which he realises are kind of contradictory actions. Oh well. “Sorry, the camera’s being funny.” 

“S’okay,” Louis says. “The internet’s not great here, so it might cut out. How are you, Haz ?” 

“Oh, fine ,” Harry says. “Just lounging around the house.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah.” The beads rub particularly hard against his prostate and he has to cover his mouth to stifle his moan. 

“You haven’t been answering your phone,” Louis says. “Called you last night. Apparently Niall’s been texting you like, non-stop.” 

“I think I left my charger cord in Lisbon,” Harry says, realising that it’s a flimsy excuse but the best he can do under pressure. “My new one hasn’t come yet.” 

It’s remarkable how much he misses Louis - just the sound of his voice is getting him all worked up, and if he wasn’t close before he sure is now. He squeezes his cock to try and keep himself from coming, and bites his lip. 

“Ah, being a bit of a hermit, I see,” Louis says. “I miss you.” 

Shit, he’s got to change the subject, otherwise he’s totally screwed. “How’s Cornwall?” Harry asks. He wipes sweat off his forehead, and thanks god that Louis didn’t press more about his ostensibly malfunctioning camera. 

“Beautiful,” Louis says wistfully. “I wish you were here, Haz.” 

“Remind me when you’re coming home, babe?” Harry says. He’s jerking himself off unabashedly now, and while there could be an element of shame about wanking over his boyfriend’s voice, he’s gone straight past that into the clutches of hedonistic pleasure. 

“Uh, five days, I think,” he says. “Might be a bit longer. Mum wants me to spend a couple days at home before we head to the States.” 

“Don’t be away too long,” Harry says, voice breaking a little. 

“Yeah, we’ll still get some quality time,” Louis says. “Haz, are you sure you’re okay?” 

“Just peachy,” Harry says, as he clenches one more time around the beads and comes all over his stomach. “I’ll see you in not too long.” 

“Love you, Haz.” 

“Love you too, Boo.” 

* * *

So, there’s something up with Harry, except Louis can’t fucking figure it out. It’s annoying, because he can usually read him a lot better than he is now, but there’s something in the way. When it comes time to leave Cornwall, he apologises to his mum but politely declines her invitation to come back home. He senses that his boy needs him, so he ought to head back to London. It’s a four hour drive, so he makes sure that he leaves early enough to get some quality time in with Harry. There’s construction on the M5 that holds him up, but before he knows it he’s pulling into the driveway of the house they share. 

He spends the whole journey wondering what the hell is going on. It’s unlike Harry to pull away from friends like he has been. Hell, Nick even called Louis to ask what the hell’s been going on, and Nick and Louis are on cordial but distant terms at best. Things have been weird and distant between Louis and Harry, which Louis senses has to do with Eleanor being around, but that’s nothing new. So whatever’s pushed Harry into this funny place is probably a little frightening, and they’re going to need to sort it out, hopefully before they’re in close quarters with their bandmates and god knows who else in less than a week’s time. (Also, Harry didn’t leave his phone charger in Portugal. He almost did, but Louis was wise enough to stick it in his suitcase for him just before they left the hotel.) 

He can’t dig his keys out of the suitcase, so he just rings the doorbell instead. Harry answers, and Louis is a bit perplexed with what he sees. His eyes are glassy and his face is flushed, extending right down to under his t-shirt. His legs are a tiny bit shaky, and Louis is pretty sure that he’s in a space where Louis could ask him his own name and he’d probably forget. This is - this is weird. Usually, it takes two to get Harry here, and Louis will literally punch a hole in their very nice front door if there’s someone else inside their house.

“Haz,” Louis asks carefully, “is there somebody else here right now?” 

“Daddy,” Harry whispers, carefully and reverentially. 

Louis can’t believe his ears. “Say that again?” 

Harry seems to have realised that he’s said something he wasn’t supposed to, takes a step back inside, and covers his mouth. “Fuck, Lou, I’m really sorry, can I help you with your stuff -“ 

“No,” Louis says, mock-calmly. He cannot be calm right now, because if Harry said what he thinks Harry has just said, then… well. Louis’ brain can’t figure out what’s going to come next. “I want to you to repeat what you just said to me.” 

Harry sighs, and says, “I just called you Daddy.” 

Right. That’s confirmation. Now he has to figure out what’s going to happen next. 

“Do you want me to do that for you Haz?” he asks. He cannot figure out why he’s being so blasé about this right now, because his heart is pounding in his chest and he’s definitely on his way to being hard. This is fucking embarrassing. “Do you want me to be your daddy?” 

Harry freezes for a moment, and Louis realises that right now, they’re on a knife’s edge, because whatever Harry says next is either going to preserve the status quo or change things in a fairly serious way. 

“Yeah,” Harry sighs, and he sounds relieved, which suggests to Louis that this might have been the thing that’s been bugging him for a while. “Yeah, I do.” 

“Okay.” Louis is pretty good at taking charge in a lot of situations and is often initiating things when they have sex, but this is a little different. “I want you to go upstairs, get naked, and lie on the bed. Don’t touch yourself. I’m going to grab my stuff out of the car, and then I’ll be up to deal with you, okay?” 

Harry nods, and scampers up the stairs. At least he’s excited about the whole thing. 

Louis goes back outside, grabs his duffel bag out of the car, and tries to consider what exactly Harry wants him to do. He supposes he’ll be able to ask, because that’s part of being considerate, and if Harry wants to do this kinky shit he’d best have put a little bit of thought into it.

He drops his bag in the den, because he can deal with it later, and then grabs himself a glass of water. He chugs it down, takes a deep breath, and heads upstairs. 

Harry is lying on their bed, hand covering the butterfly tattoo on his stomach and eyes closed. His dick is pressed up against his stomach, and Louis wonders whether he actually heeded his instructions or whether the idea of having his fantasies fulfilled has made him this worked up. 

Louis purses his lips and then crawls on the bed to lay down on top of him and kiss him gently. 

“Haz,” he says, slowly and carefully, “I don’t know a lot about this stuff, okay? I don’t think I’m gonna be very good at it.” 

“You can’t fuck it up, Lou,” Harry whispers back. 

“I need you to tell me if I’m hurting you,” Louis replies. He swears to god his hands are shaking, and not because he’s turned on. 

“We need a safeword,” Harry says. 

“Dingleberries.” 

“What - I don’t know what that is, but okay.” Harry nods. “Remember, you can word out too, Boo.” 

“Okay,” Louis says, nodding. 

“And we have to check colours,” Harry says. “Like, traffic lights. Red is bad, green is good.” 

“Okay,” Louis says, and despite all that the lump in his throat isn’t quite gone. “What colour are you right now, Haz?” 

“Green,” Harry replies. “Definitely green. You?” 

“Green,” Louis says, hesitating slightly. “Kind of a lime-ish shade, I’m not going to lie, but still green.” 

“Okay,” Harry says. “We go slow.” 

“For sure.” 

“And can I - can I call you -“ 

“Daddy?” 

“Yeah.” 

Louis nods, and the knowledge of what the word represents and the trust that it signifies makes shivers run down his spine. (He’s on his way to hard too, which is kind of a nice side effect.) 

“Please, daddy,” Harry whispers. “I need you right now.” 

Louis kisses him again, deep and desperate. He rocks his hips against Harry’s, and swallows Harry’s wines as the rough denim of his jeans rubs against his cock. 

“If we’re gonna play, baby,” Louis whispers, sitting back up so he’s seated on Harry’s thighs, “there are gonna have to be some rules.” 

Harry nods. 

“First of all, no noise. Good little boys like to be quiet, I think. Second, you don’t touch yourself until I tell you, or I’ll tie your wrists to the bedposts and watch you squirm, okay?” 

“You could - you could do that anyways, daddy,” Harry says weakly. 

“Really?” Louis says. 

“Yup.” 

So Louis hops off the bed and grabs a couple of neckties out of the top drawer. They don’t own many, mostly Christmas presents from Jay, who notoriously disliked bowties. With shaking hands he ties Harry’s wrists to the bedposts. 

“Let me know if it’s too tight, babe,” he says. 

“Just right, Boo,” Harry replies. “Lou, it’s perfect.” 

He nods, and then climbs back on their bed. He drops a kiss on Harry’s nose, then down to his chin, then down his neck. He sucks a lovebite on ‘his’ swallow tattoo, because he figures the bruising will maybe be less conspicuous there. Harry whimpers. 

Louis tweaks his nipple and says, “Baby, gotta remember the rules if you want to play.” 

Harry grimaces, but nods anyways. 

"What do we say when Daddy asks us to do something?" 

"Yes, Daddy," Harry whines. 

"Alright then," Louis says, nodding, "I don't want to hear a peep out of you after this, not until I tell you to." 

Harry nods frantically. 

The way that Louis is warming up Harry's body really isn't that different to how they'd normally do things - maybe, though, Harry would have a little bit more control - but Louis enjoys the headrush of being completely and totally in charge. He's crossed the boundary between nervous and exhilarated, and as long as Harry is willing to trust him to keep doing this, he'll keep warming him up. 

He kisses and bites over the fern tattoos, still Harry's newest bit of ink, though he suspects that will change when they get to the US. Harry's hands fist desperately in the sheets as Louis tastes the sweat covering his body. 

"You taste so sweet, baby," he says, looking up at Harry and grinning. Harry smiles remarkably wide for someone who is as hard as he is, and flashes Louis a thumbs up - or does so as much as he can for someone whose hands are tied up as his are. 

He kisses and bites around Harry's thighs for a little while, watches him get all worked and fidgety, because he may as well get Harry all worked up and desperate before he actually gets his mouth on his cock. Ah, brilliant. 

"Babe," Louis whispers, pinching Harry's thigh to get his attention, "would you rather I blow you or eat you out?" 

Harry's eyes are glassy, his face is flushed, and his lips are swollen, probably because he's been biting them so much. Louis wants to kiss him right now, more than anything in the entire world, so he sidles back up Harry's body so he can kiss him again and grind on his cock. 

"Baby," he says, when they break apart (and it's at this juncture that Louis realises that he's really got to lose his clothes soon), "do you want me to eat you out, or blow you?" 

Harry looks at him, slightly distressed, and Louis remembers that he hasn't given Harry permission to speak. 

"You've been a good boy for daddy," Louis says, heart catching in his throat when he sees Harry's face soften, just a little, "you can use your words." 

"Daddy please," Harry whimpers, "please eat me out." 

Louis nods. He is so up for eating Harry out, because it's probably the surest way to completely wreck Harry. (Well, it was before they tried this. The whole Daddy thing is to be explored more, but later.) 

"I'm going to untie you, and then I want you to roll over for me, okay?" Louis says, fiddling with the knot on Harry's left wrist. "Once I'm done with these, I'm going to grab a pillow for you to put under your hips, alright?" 

Harry nods, and turns over. He moans quietly when his dick rubs against the sheets, Louis presumes. Harry pushes his hips up enough for Louis to get the pillow under them. He then presses a gentle kiss to the back to Harry's neck. 

"How are you, love?" Louis asks, threading his hands through the hair on the back of Harry's neck. 

"Green," Harry whimpers. 

"Good," Louis replies. "Give me a pinch, or a kick, or something if that changes." 

Harry nods.

Louis positions himself down by Harry's arse, and he sort of regrets that no one really appreciates Harry's ass as it should be appreciated. Well, that's his job, presumably, and Harry's starting to rock his hips against the pillow, presumably to relieve a little bit of pressure. 

"I gotcha, babe," Louis whispers, and then spreads Harry's asscheeks apart. He kisses from the top of his crack down to just above his hole, and then laps gently around Harry's rim. 

Harry groans loudly into the sheets, which is probably code for _s_ _top teasing me,_ so, because he’s not a total asshole despite what anyone else might say, dips his tongue into the rim of Harry’s hole. A broken sob wracks Harry’s body, but Louis doesn’t let up, because he loves the idea that he can make Harry fall apart like this and his boy is so, so close that it wouldn’t be becoming of Daddy to just leave him hanging like this. 

He lets Harry calm down just a little, gives him gentle kisses on his asscheeks, and then briefly moves away from Harry to grab some lube out of the nightstand. 

“Daddy!” Harry whines. Louis rolls his eyes, and when he gets back in position, he reaches around and smacks him on the ass. 

_Oh no._ That’s not something that they’ve ever done before. “Colour?” Louis asks hastily. 

“Green,” Harry replies, and even though apparently it’s okay, Louis still kisses the red handprint, and then slicks up one of his fingers and works it past the tight ring of muscle. Harry doesn’t resist the intrust, and cants his hips up more to meet Louis’ finger. 

“Hold still,” Louis says gruffly, and then works his tongue in alongside his finger. 

That’s what does it for Harry, and he comes with a sharp cry all over the pillow, even before Louis does anything prostate-related. Jesus. 

Harry flips himself back over and kicks the pillow off the bed. Now that Harry’s been dealt with, at least momentarily, Louis spares a thought for his poor cock, hard and leaking and still in his goddamn skinny jeans. Harry really needs to start warning him when he’s going to introduce them to something like this, because Louis would definitely pick looser pants to wear on the day. He quickly divests himself of his clothes, and then crawls back on the bed beside Harry. 

His boy, Louis sees, is completely blissed out, looking up with unfocused eyes. When Louis sidles up beside him, Harry turns on his side to face him. 

“Thank you, Daddy,” he says, a smile on his face. His breathing is still ragged, and Louis rubs soothing circles on his back to try and calm him. 

“Oh, it’s all I can do for my baby,” Louis replies, and kisses him on the forehead. 

They make out lazily for a while, Harry holding on to Louis like a limpet. Things become somewhat less lazy when Harry wraps a hand around his cock, and Louis’ breath suddenly catches in his throat. 

“Daddy,” Harry says, smiling, and it’s only now that Louis realises that his voice has gone up a couple pitches, making him sound a little - childlike? - he doesn’t know, “can you fuck me?” 

Yes. One hundred times, yes. Louis’ got a persona to keep up here, so he can’t totally give in, but he really _really_ wants to. “Aren’t you going be to be a little sensitive, baby?” 

“I just want to feel you,” Harry sighs, frustrated, and when he sees Louis looking at him expectantly, he adds, “ _Daddy._ ” 

“Well, if you’re gonna ask like that, Haz,” Louis says, pushing Harry’s shoulder so he’s flat on his back again, “I can’t really say no.” He grabs the bottle of lube and slicks up two fingers. In a flash he’s deep inside Harry, and it’s been so long that his cock twitches when Harry clenches around his _fingers, for God’s sake._ Oh, these are the moments he lives for, when they’re both teetering on a knife’s edge of pleasure and are oh-so-close to falling off. Louis adds a third finger and sucks just a little on the head of Harry’s cock, still covered with come. 

“Baby,” Louis says, as he removes his fingers and slicks himself up, “you taste so fucking good.” It’s not eloquent, but it’s the best he can do when he’s thirty seconds away from being inside his boyfriend, and for Louis, this whole experience has been the best of slow burns. 

He lines himself up with Harry’s hole and then guides himself inside, hissing as he bottoms out in the tight heat. Harry runs his nails down his back - lightly at first, then harder when he drags his cock over Harry’s prostate, and here they’re not really playing, it’s just them fucking, nice and slow, Louis draped over Harry with Harry’s legs wrapped around his waist. 

Harry whines - winces, almost - on every thrust, and Louis wondering how well he’s really recovered from orgasm number one. He wraps a hand around Harry’s cock, because he gets the feeling that Harry needs this to be done sooner rather than later, and wanks him in time with his thrusts.

“Baby,” Louis says, breathless, “come for Daddy now, okay?” 

Harry nods, and for a few moments it looks like he’s straining to make it happen, and Louis at once regrets putting any kind of pressure on him, because his face screws up like he’s really hurting - 

And then he comes hard, adding to the mess all over his stomach, and Louis lasts a few more strokes in the heat that’s suddenly clenching all around him before he’s coming too, filling Harry up. 

He pulls out and, despite the fact that he’s not really sure whether his legs will actually hold him up, gingerly slides off the bed. He kicks his clothes and the pillow that Harry messed up into a corner - those will both have to be washed when they’ve acclimated to the real world again - and pips down the hall to grab a couple of flannels. 

Harry is a mess, and Louis whispers gentle encouragements to him as he wipes him clean. Harry’s shivering too, so he also manhandles him away from the wet spot and covers him with their duvet and a throw. He quickly cleans himself off too, and tries his damndest to stave off his refractory period, because he gets the feeling that he’s going to be taking care of Harry for a little while as well. 

He slips back under the covers and pulls Harry flush against him, lying on his side, head resting across from Louis’. 

“Thanks, Boo,” Harry says. “You’re - you’re not going to go anywhere, right?” 

Louis nods. “Nah, I’m right here until you’re back, Hazza. I think that’s part of this - taking care of you, you know?” 

“That was - “ 

“Fucking awesome, Haz.” 

“Was I good?” Harry’s eyes are barely open, but they are so, so eager. It breaks Louis’ heart a little. 

“Oh, baby,” he says, “you were perfect. Just perfect. You always are.” He pauses for a second, as they really haven’t addressed this rather major new step they’ve just taken in their relationship, but now is not the time to discuss it, not when Harry’s almost slurring his words and can’t keep his eyes open. “You warm enough?” 

Harry nods. “I will be, if you’re here.” 

Louis nods, and then tucks his head under Harry’s chin. Yeah, he’s not going anywhere. 

* * *

Harry still clings to Louis like he’s drowning, even once they’ve had the obligatory post-coital bath and Louis has manhandled Harry into some tracky bottoms and a long-sleeved shirt. When Louis orders Dominos for their dinner that night - apparently the only time that Harry isn’t good at keeping the fridge reasonably well-stocked is when he’s having a sex-related crisis, which is fair - Harry comes up behind him, wraps his arms around Louis’ waist and tucks his chin on Louis’ shoulder. 

They eat pizza snuggled up by the television, Harry tracing his fingers up and down Louis’ side. Louis is perfectly happy to melt into Harry’s side here, which he realises might be a kind of reversal of their roles in bed. Then again, the whole experience wiped him out too, and he’s spent a good deal of time watching over Harry tonight. He’s tired and almost ready to fold too, so he doesn’t mind that Harry is taking the initiative in cuddling here. 

“Haz,” he says, twisting his neck so that he can kind of look up at Harry, “can we talk about this?” 

Harry nods, and shuts off the TV. 

“I’d like to say that I really enjoyed the Daddy thing,” Louis says. “But, you know. It’s a new thing.” 

Harry nods, and disentangles himself from Louis so they can face each other. “That’s definitely true. It’s something I would like to pursue, if you’re in to it.” 

“Oh yeah,” Louis replies, and then realises that his enthusiasm might seem odd. 

Harry is unfazed. “So, I guess we rely on the internet. And each other, presumably.” 

Louis nods. “Haz, you let me know if I do anything that makes you uncomfortable, okay? We gotta take this slow.” 

“Yeah,” Harry says, nodding. They’ll work it out. 

And do they ever. 

 


End file.
